


When The Bell Tolls - Anthony Ramos

by AzuleOpal



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Everyone but John is just mentioned, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Death, M/M, Mention of Death, Mentions of Blood, Non-Graphic Gore, Songfic, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 11:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15818343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzuleOpal/pseuds/AzuleOpal
Summary: Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens lays dying on the morning of August 27th, 1782. These are his final thoughts.In honour of this underrated hero's reckless sacrifice. Raise a glass to freedom.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=buVNsM35Xoo(I edited this, so feel free to reread!)





	When The Bell Tolls - Anthony Ramos

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this was one of the hardest things I've ever done. This is the only time I will ever hurt John this way.

BANG! My back hits the ground. I can't move. I hear my own breathing getting louder. The world melts away. I close my eyes.

~~~

_I wrote a letter to my granddaughter. I said "I'm sorry I don't get to meet you"._

My heart pangs. I have failed as a father. Will my grandchildren even tell my story?

_I wrote a letter to my grandmother. I said "I really can't wait to see you."_

My heart aches. I have failed as a son. How bittersweet it is, how easily one succumbs to death; mind, soul and body.

_In heaven, I heard there's a river of gold that flows through a crowd of angels._

My heart beats, but my body is weakening and I know that I will soon join the winged ranks by the river.

_To a city that knows no pain, no fear or anger._

I can feel the bullet wound and the heartache, but they feel faded. I think of my father, but feel no ill-will towards him. I think of my brother, but the anguish I feel is muted.

_Now I'm sitting here in my tears, praying._

I pray that my father sees the mistakes he made and that he changes his ways. I pray that my death marks the birth of equality and freedom. I pray that I will see my mother, my brother, my grandmother again soon.

_Father, won't you please forgive this soldier? He claims that what he's doing is for you._

My chest hurts, I can feel the tears on my face, cold in the early morning air. I wish I could prove to Father, the one in heaven and the one on Earth, that I'm laying down my life for him. To make him proud.

_Father, I can feel you getting closer and I'm not ready._

I realise now how much I am leaving behind, unaccomplished. Emancipation, freedom, a country, a nation. A family, a legacy.

_But we don't choose when the bell tolls_

I can already hear the faint sound of that bell, clanging loudly in the distance, breaking the fragile morning stillness and shaking the earth where the fallen lie motionless. Lifeless.

_I thought I'd only ever see it on the TV, never thought it would be me._

I've seen soldiers die before. Many of those men had had families to go home to. I've smelled their spilled blood, seen the look on their faces moments before death pulled them under it's merciless veil. Now it is my turn, it seems. How bittersweet.

_Now I'm laying here, begging you for mercy._

I see a man in a red coat standing over me. I plead with him, silently asking for sympathy, begging for understanding. He simply looks at me, expression unreadable.

_I'm wondering if you'll leave or see me through these bloodstains._

What does he see? A wounded man, full of potential but struck down too soon? An enemy defeated? A simple swath of cloth around flesh bathed in blood?

_Take me with my mistakes. You're who's left with this pain._

My lungs burn for air that my heart and throat struggle to deliver. The man's expression turns humane and even pained when I cough up blood. I wish to transfer my pain to him, to be free of it. My dying breaths will haunt him long after I am gone, ingrained in his mind until the day he dies, like me, like some twisted legacy.

_From heaven, with a ray from a river of gold that flows through a crowd of angels._

I can feel my mind beginning to slip away as my thoughts begin to tumble over themselves.

_To a city that knows no pain, no fear or anger._

I am still aware of my heartbeat, of my heart.

_Now I'm sitting here in my tears praying._

Fresh tears leak down my face as I think of Alexander. My Alexander. I pray he continues to feed the fire of his soul, the hurricane of his mind. I pray he will know that I'm thinking of him, of our time together as I lay here. I pray he continues to light up the world with his brilliance and change it the way he changed me. I pray he'll survive the grief of losing me and most of all, I pray he gets the life he so desperately wanted and always dreamed of living.

_Father, won't you please forgive this soldier? He claims that what he's doing is for you._

Oh, dear God, protect my Alexander from the inevitable heartbreak he will experience. So soon after the birth of his first born child, no less. I die on your terms, in your time. I want just this small thing in return. Please give him the strength to carry my dream into reality. Then it will all have been worth it.

_Father, I can feel you getting closer and I'm not ready._

I know my time is almost up, but please, I wish to see Alexander one last time. To remind him that I love him, that I will always love him. Oh Lord, I'm not ready to leave him. But my body hurts so much...

_But we don't choose when the bell tolls._

_When the bell tolls..._

_When the bell tolls..._

_When the bell tolls..._

_When the bell tolls..._

My entire being feels lighter, my breathing is getting louder and the voices are, too. Suddenly, I feel a rush of energy, of power at it's purest. My breath catches and I see a bright light, brighter even than the sun. After a moment of being blinded, I feel as though I am hurtling through nothingness, fast. Then I feel submerged under water, but I still appear to be breathing. This must be the passing into the next world. It is indescribably powerful, ethereal.

I come up from the water. The voices are still there, but they are quieter now, whispering. 

"Stay. You're here to stay." The quiet, wispy words should be ominous, but they wrap around me like a mother's warm embrace and I welcome them.

I hear myself breathing. I stand up slowly, but feel nothing as I rise and look around. I'm in a forest, trees glistening in the sunlight. I look down. The river is of gold. I hear birds chirping.

My heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> If you see any typos, please tell me! Also, is it "wondering if you'll leave or see me through these bloodstains" or "wondering if you'll even see me"?


End file.
